Cowboy Casanova (Wild At Heart Cowboys Book 3)

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Cowboy Casanova (Wild At Heart Cowboys Book 3) Page 11

by Charlene Bright


  By then, word had spread through the community about Bill’s illness and the amount of work Dylan had been doing for months to keep up both his and Bill’s ranches, and unbidden help had begun to pour in. Dylan smirked as he thought about how Bill would hate all of this “fuss.” But try as he might, the old man couldn’t keep people from doing what people do when they care about someone.

  So for the past six days now, Dylan had allowed himself to be helped and had taken what had amounted to his first vacation in his entire life. It was a vacation spent inside, but it was spent inside with Tara, and there was nowhere else he wanted to be. He had found the draw to her to be more powerful than his sense of duty to his work, and he discovered it was surprisingly easy to let others step in so that he could take a break when his break meant he was with her, much of it spent without clothing.

  If it hadn’t been for Tara checking in on Zoe each day after she had agreed to help them with a home birth, their daily visit to see Bill, and a couple of trips to the store so that they had something to eat, they might not have left the house at all. Dylan couldn’t imagine any beach vacation or camping trip to be as wonderful as this had been.

  But reality was about to come crashing back and they would no longer be able to play house and fantasize that Bill would live forever. Dr. Mason, along with Bill’s oncologist, had been pleased with his recovery at the hospital and had agreed that his weakened immune system had allowed a virus to set in. Tara had vowed to them that she would make sure there wasn’t a germ for miles when he came back home.

  It also seemed that the cancer meds were indeed helping to keep the cancer from continuing to grow. Though the prognosis was still grim, they had managed to extend his life expectancy by several more months. While Bill had grudgingly been forced to accept that the community was now aware of his condition and they would help with or without his blessing, Dylan suspected it wasn’t quite as grudgingly as he was letting on.

  He reached out his hand and placed it on Tara’s lower back as she stood up. “I think you’ve scrubbed away every single possibility of a germ in every single spot in this house, sweetheart. It’s time to go and pick up the patient.”

  She smiled at him. “I love it when you call me ‘sweetheart,’ sweetheart.” He grinned and leaned forward, pulling her closer, but she put her hands on his chest and pushed away. “No, sir, if that look means what I think it means, we won’t be going anywhere for a couple of hours. We have to pick up our patient, remember?”

  He slapped his hand against his forehead. “Oh yeah, what was that man’s name again?” He laughed and dodged her playful swat.

  Two hours later, they were wheeling Bill across the threshold of his home. He had tried to complain about the wheelchair but then seemed to enjoy shouting out orders of watching for bumps or steering more to the right or “sharp turn up ahead!” When they had him comfortably sitting on his couch with an afghan Tara had found in the bottom of a chest of drawers, he smiled and said, “It’s good to be home.”

  “It’s good to have you back home, old man,” Dylan replied as he sat beside him. Tara returned from the kitchen with two glasses of iced tea and sat in the armchair next to the couch. Bill took a long drink and smacked his lips and then eyed his nurse sharply. “The old place looks better than it ever has. I guess it’s needed a woman’s touch for a long time.”

  “It’s important for you to be comfortable,” she said simply.

  Bill looked at Dylan and then back at Tara. They hadn’t yet told him of the change in their relationship. “Doesn’t really look lived in much, though. Have you been sleeping over somewhere else?”

  Tara blushed and Dylan jumped in. “I don’t think—”

  Bill raised his hand to hush him. “Young lady, why don’t you trade places with me so you can sit here on this love seat and I can stretch out my legs in that chair.”

  “It’s not a love seat, it’s a couch,” said Dylan.

  “With you two on it, it’s a love seat.”

  Tara’s blush deepened but she stood. “I think I’ll go get dinner started.”

  Bill put his hand out to her arm and stopped her. “I didn’t mean to embarrass you. You have no idea how much I have appreciated you being here for me … and for this boy, here.” He turned to Dylan. “I may be old and sick, but I’m not blind and I know what love looks like. It’s been staring at me here for months. Please tell me you two aren’t still pretending not to have the hots for each other.”

  Dylan laughed and helped Bill up while Tara fluffed a pillow for the chair, giggling softly. “Nothing gets past you, does it?” Dylan said, helping Bill into the chair while Tara pulled out the foot rest for him.

  He settled back and pulled the afghan up to his chest. “You’re damn right, and you best keep that in mind.” Then he put his arms behind his head and closed his eyes. “Now, how about that dinner?”

  Tara gave Bill a quick hug around his neck, causing his eyes to shoot open in surprise. Then she went into the kitchen, leaving the man speechless while he looked to Dylan for an explanation. He just shrugged and said, “Don’t fight it, man. Just go with it.”

  Bill laughed and then his face became serious as he looked intently at Dylan. “It’s hard for me to ask for help, son, and I’ve had to let you come in and take care of me for months, knowing you wouldn’t ever say anything but that it was causing you a lot of grief.” Dylan started to speak but Bill cut him off. “I ain’t finished. And then I had to swallow my pride even more by letting a pretty young woman come in and wipe my ass and puke off my face. It’s hard to be brought down so low. But watching you two together, I have decided that she’s not just here for me. She’s here for you too, and it makes me feel just a little less like a pathetic fool who can’t take care of himself. Now I’m a pathetic fool who is responsible for bringing you two together. And that ain’t so bad.”

  Dylan nodded, not sure what to say but finally spoke. “I didn’t know I needed someone to take care of me either, but I’m sure glad she showed up here in our lives. I think we both needed a woman’s touch.”

  “Damn straight,” said Bill, closing his eyes again. “Now leave me alone so I can get a little rest and go in there and help that girl with dinner and don’t leave that room until you’ve kissed her good.”

  Dylan laughed and stood to head to the kitchen to obey the man’s orders.

  18

  Tara stood over the sink, rinsing out the after-dinner coffee cups and handing them to Dylan who set them on a towel. “Well I guess vacation’s over,” she sighed. “Not that I mind being back to work, taking care of Bill. He kind of grows on you, doesn’t he?”

  “You could say that,” he replied as he rinsed his hands under the faucet, then dried them and dropped the towel onto the counter. He turned to Tara and pulled her close. “I guess it’s back to work for both of us.”

  She lay her head on his chest and smiled. “This has been the best vacation ever.” His chest rumbled under her cheek as he chuckled.

  They went back into the living room where Bill snored lightly in his chair. Tara looked up at the clock. “He really needs a bath before he goes to bed,” she said. “The doctors and nursing staff have taken wonderful care of him at that hospital, but hospitals are always full of germs and those monitors can leave some residue where they have him connected. Besides I’m sure he’s ready to wash off these past couple of weeks and wash back in his own smells and surroundings. I might be a little out of practice after taking this break. Do you think you could help me?”

  “Of course,” Dylan said, and he put his arms behind the elderly man’s back, lifting him to an upright position while she folded the afghan and put it on the back of the couch. Bill’s eyes fluttered open. “Time to get your bath and get in bed, young man,” Dylan said as he helped him stand and then guided him to his room.

  Tara watched them go and wondered how many more weeks they had with him. No matter, she thought, she would make each day count and make them as ha
ppy and as healthy as she could for her charge. And we’ll just deal with tomorrow when it comes.

  If she could get someone to sit with him for a couple of hours tomorrow, she thought, she would go into town and get a few things to bring some cheer into the home. Ice cream for banana split night, a couple of games to keep his brain active, and she might set up some outings for him after a few days inside to make sure the infection was all gone. It wasn’t just the number of his days that mattered, but the quality of life during those days.

  Thinking of someone to sit with him, she immediately thought of Zoe and wondered how she was doing. She had dropped by on her new friend early that morning to check on her and found that she had begun to dilate. It was likely a matter of days or even hours now before labor would begin. She had made sure the couple had her phone number, and she knew they had Dylan’s, so that they could call the minute her contractions started. She would need to make sure that someone else was on call to stay with Bill if Dylan wasn’t available.

  She tidied up a little more and then headed back to Bill’s bathroom where Dylan had just drawn a warm bath and was easing Bill down into the water.

  After he had been bathed and put to bed, Tara and Dylan sat on the couch, his arm around her and her head on his shoulder. He pulled up his wrist to look at his watch. “It’s getting late now. I should probably be heading back to my place so I can get back to work at the crack of dawn.” He sighed and reluctantly pulled his arm away from her.

  “Or …” she said, a glint in her eye. “It’s really too late now for you to head back tonight. You could stay here and let us have our last night of vacation. Bill’s asleep, I have the baby monitor in case he needs me, the house is clean, and Zoe and Noah know to call if she goes into labor. There’s really nothing to do until tomorrow morning.”

  “Well I certainly can’t argue with such a brilliant plan.” He stood immediately, pulling her from the couch, and headed quickly to the bedroom.

  They lay in the dark after an hour of pretending they had all the time in the world. They could hear Bill’s soft but raspy breathing in the monitor and held each other as closely as was possible.

  She broke the calm silence. “I’m not going to renew my lease on my apartment. I don’t know how long I’ll be with Bill, but when the time comes, I’ll find another place, if I need to. But I don’t think I ever want to go back home. And I’m not sure I want to keep moving from place to place to care for people.”

  He searched her face, which was just visible in the moonlight coming through the window, as if he didn’t believe what he was hearing. But she was being completely honest. She couldn’t imagine not being with Dylan at this point. She didn’t know when the tables had turned, taking her from “maybe” to “god, yes!”, but that’s where she found herself at this moment. The sex was incredible. But that wasn’t even what made her certain. It was the connection they shared, the peace she felt when she was with him, and the fact that he was the only person in her entire life that had ever felt like true family.

  “I would love for you to stay here,” he told her. He seemed to be choosing his words carefully, and she waited, not wanting to press him into saying something he didn’t mean. “I’d like you to live with me, actually, but I’m not going to push that so early, especially since you’re still going to be taking care of Bill for quite some time, hopefully. But if you have furniture you want to keep, I’m open to you having it brought to my house.”

  Something in her chest bloomed, and she felt like she was floating on air. Dylan had as much as asked her to move in with him. Maybe it wasn’t going to happen right away, but it was a big step, almost as big as having used the ‘l’ word. “Do you really think we have a good enough chance at making this work to want to do that?”

  He sat up and gazed down at her with surety. “I’ve been imagining you living with me for weeks now. I feel so lonely in that house without you, which is not something I’ve ever felt before, and I know I’d be happier to have you there, waiting for me every night. I know you have to figure out your career. I would never want to take that away from you. But Tara …” He trailed off, looking troubled. She reached for his hand, clasping it in hers and wondering what he was going to say. “I’m in love with you, Tara, and I don’t know how or when it happened. It just did, and I know that’s what it is because I feel like I can’t live without you.”

  She sat up and threw herself into his arms, pressing her face into his chest and trying not to cry. “What makes you think that’s how you define being in love?” She knew she was playing devil’s advocate, but she had to know.

  He chuckled, and she again felt the beautiful vibration in his chest against her cheek. “I’ve heard enough men around here lately talk about it. Falling in love seems to be an epidemic around here these days.” He reached under her chin and tilted her head up to face him and kissed her soundly. “Are you doubting me?”

  She shook her head. “No, I’m not doubting you,” she assured him. “I’m doubting myself and whether or not I’m worthy of it.” She cupped his face in her hands and locked eyes with him. “I’m in love with you, too, Dylan. And I would love to move my things in with you.” It sounded ridiculous, and she launched into giggles, but it felt good to be connected to someone on a semi-permanent basis.

  They were peacefully asleep in each other’s arms minutes later, when her shrill cellphone broke through the night. She jumped up, always alert for anything that meant she was needed. She grabbed her phone from the nightstand and turned on the lamp while Dylan sat up, rubbing his eyes. She mouthed It’s Zoe to him as she answered the phone.

  After giving a few instructions over the phone in a very calm, reassuring tone, she turned back to him. “She’s just started having contractions,” she said and began pulling clothes from a dresser and packing supplies into a bag. “It should be a while yet before the baby will be here, but I’m going to hurry on over there. Can you stay with Bill? I know you were ready to get back to work, and I don’t know how long I’ll be gone. It could be many hours even. Maybe someone in town could—”

  He stood and cut her off by grabbing her waist and pulling her to him and kissing her gently. “You don’t worry about anything. I’ll take care of Bill. The ranches can wait for me another day.” He kissed her again and let her go so she could finish packing. Then he reached over to the nightstand on her side of the bed to grab the baby monitor and put it on his side of the bed.

  She was ready to leave minutes later and leaned over him to kiss him goodbye. “Tell my friends good luck,” he said as she moved away from him, turned out the light, and shut the door.

  Noah greeted her with some scattered nervousness when she arrived. She put a hand on his arm and assured him that all was well, that women had been doing this for millennia. He paused, took a deep breath, and then led her to their bedroom where Zoe was sitting upright, only a thin bead of sweat on her brow. She lay back to let Tara examine her briefly.

  She looked up at Noah and asked, “How far apart are her contractions?”

  “Let’s see,” he said, looking at his wristwatch. “The last one was exactly 18 minutes and 22 seconds ago.”

  Tara smothered a giggle. “Good job, Daddy. Now get comfortable, both of you. This could take a while. Her water hasn’t even broken yet.” She turned back to Zoe and squeezed her hand. “And don’t worry, honey. I’ll call the doctor to let her know this is happening tonight and I’ll be here the entire time.” Zoe smiled weakly as another wave crashed over her features.

  It was after dark the next day before Tara returned to Bill’s, weary but elated. She stepped into the house and saw Bill in his chair yelling at basketball players hundreds of miles away. She smiled, yawned, and put her bag down on the table. “Are you sure you should be getting your blood pressure up like that?”

  He swatted the air in defiance, but grabbed the remote and turned off the tv. “Coaches don’t know what they’re doing, players ain’t worth crap, and referees ar
e as crooked as they come.” He looked up at her tired eyes. “Come in, sit down, and tell us all about that baby!”

  She smiled. “In a minute. I’d like to take a shower and put on some clean clothes and then I’ll need to figure out dinner.” She looked around. “Where’s Dylan?”

  As if answering her call, he came out of the kitchen in an apron, carrying a platter and followed by a heavenly smell. Tara nearly fell into a puddle on the floor. “You made dinner?”

  Bill laughed. “You wish. Naw, he picked up something from the diner.”

  Dylan scowled at him and set the platter on the table. Her eyes followed and she saw two plates and candles. Her smile faltered. “I guess you need to hurry on back to your place,” she said with disappointment in her voice. “Thank you for taking care of this. I certainly didn’t feel like—”

  Bill stood up and laughed again. “Honey, he ain’t going nowhere. He already fed me, washed my bib, and everything. I think I’m gonna go on in my room and fall asleep there while watching the game and give you some privacy.” He winked and Dylan rushed over to help him walk to his room. “Can I get a widescreen television for my new room?” he asked as he let the younger man lead him into his bedroom.

  Confused, Tara sat down and let the weight of the day pull her shoulders down. She could fall asleep right here, but she was also still high on adrenaline. It had been her first birth. She had had some brief training in delivery and had been present during one birth, taking mental notes while her nursing supervisor delivered the red-faced beauty. But this was the first time she had been the one to oversee the event. And she had never seen anyone more proud than Noah was when he took the shaking, crying little girl into his arms, blood still covering her and the umbilical cord still attached.

  She shook her head at the wonder of the memory and couldn’t help but imagine the look on Dylan’s face one day, maybe, holding their newborn. She had no doubt that he would be just as proud. She had cried with the new parents, helped clean the baby, and checked all of her vitals. Then she had called Zoe’s doctor and reported on the successful delivery and agreed to be there when the doctor came out to check on mother and child the next day.

 

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